Mad Sweeney laughs and he hasn't done much of that these past few weeks, not since the accident, and it feels good to do. Maybe he doesn't have his fucking coin back and maybe he never will, maybe he'll die in the next month when his luck turns from bad to worse, but at least he can have some fun before he goes.

"Aim for the balls then, dear, won't be the first time they've been fucked over this week."

He looks at her then, the same way she's just looked at him, taking his time. Christ, but she's young and small, but young and small don't mean shit. Dead Wife wasn't the first to teach him that, only the latest.

"Got a feeling you'd find your way up here eventually," he adds. "Or a way to bring me down to your level."